


A Peculiar Plan To Be Unperculiar

by Chuchiwan



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Maryann Portman is at a level 10 all the time, Meeting the Parents, Mentions of Character Death, a story about Christmas being posted in the middle of July, book 3 alternative ending, homophobic, maybe ooc?, peculiarphobic, poor Horace, sex with feeling, spoilers for book 1 2 and 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuchiwan/pseuds/Chuchiwan
Summary: Taking place at the ending of Library of Souls.Jacob cuts connection with his parents on his eighteenth birthday. Leaving on a sour note by telling half truths and lies. One of which being that he is currently dating a guy. A month after he has left home, his parents want a second chance, they want him home for Christmas.They want to meet his fictional boyfriend.Luckily, his peculiar friends are to the rescue. Only thing is, the fictionality of  his boyfriend maybe wrong.





	A Peculiar Plan To Be Unperculiar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~! So I started writing this story way back when I finished the first book. It was my thoughts on how it was going to end mixed with my love for MillardxJacob.
> 
> SPOILERS IN THIS NOTE!! You been warned.
> 
> Fast forward to yesterday, I finished Library of Souls and then remembered this old story I half way finished. Beside not know the fate of the hollowgasts and the that the children would no longer need a loop. I knew that they would eventually end up in Florida with him. I knew his parents would try to instatitionlize him and really only had to tweak a bit of the wording there.
> 
> So here it is. Enjoy~

My parents always had these standards set for me; I would take over their Smart Aid branch -like my cousins had for my Uncles-, I would settle down with an average girl and have some outrageous number of kids like twelve.

You can imagine how horrified and shocked they were when two years after I had been brought back from England after my “episode” (as my parents and therapist stiffly referred to it- that was on the rare occasion my parents acknowledged at all that I had run away to London on what they believed to be a psychotic break) I dropped the facade that I was even remotely okay with their invision of how I should live my life.

I was an adult now anyway and despite their uneasiness, unsure how to deal with their lunatic son, they couldn’t tell me what to do anymore. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents… but it was all about appearing to be as normal as possible with them, and though my peculiarity wasn’t as obvious as some of my friends’ was, I was at least not completely normal. My parents loved me. I knew that, but they were scared of the weird- scared that me telling them that I had a friend completely invisible when I was fresh back from my peculiar adventures would make other normals look badly upon them if they found out.

Like I said, I loved my parents, but in the last two years, they had sent me off to a “clinic” several weeks out of the year. Those were hell holes. Not as bad as the Devil’s Acre but a close runner up. Forced to take medications that left me woozy and sick. They would promise me every time they’d drop me off that this would be the last time, that they had a feeling that the doctors “could really help you with this… problem of yours.” My mom would say. 

But I grinned and bared it (not so much the grinning part, most of my trips to the asylums were met with nasty words I would feel guilty for spitting at my parents the moment I calmed down.

My temper was very thin with them the more time went on, and the day of my eighteenth birthday I had made my mom cry. Why? Because I was so done with being treated like I was insane, and the moment my mom had nervously asked me if I had taken my medication that morning, I snapped. Breakfast Birthday of pancakes and eggs forgotten, I frowned and looked across the table to where my dad was reading some bird magazine while my mom poured herself some coffee behind me. Then I started talking, and once I started, I couldn’t stop.

“No, actually. I’ve been flushing them down the toilet every morning. And you know what? I’m done taking them, so you can stop getting refills.” Her jaw went slack. Not that I could see it behind me but I knew that that’s what she was doing in the silence. Dad looked up, eyebrows furrowed, probably trying to gage whether  
or not I was pulling their legs. 

I went on racking my brain for more things to say to upset them. I think, underneath, I felt guilty but knew that for this next step into my life of freedom, I needed to distance myself from them. Not that I’m denying a lot of the words I said felt good to smack my parents with after the two years of medications and clinics without them even bothering to hear me out.

“I am not your crazy son that you have to hide from the neighbors to keep a good face. You both are ashamed to call me your son-“ “Jacob, where is this coming fr-“. My mom started as she circled back around the table. I cut her off though, not wanting to hear her spin a fictitious story about how they weren’t ashamed, just worried. I didn’t doubt they were worried, just not so much that it was for me rather than the family name to uphold. 

“Just let me talk, Okay?” “I don’t like your tone, young man.” My dad piped in but I ignored the comment. “I’m tired of trying to be something I’m not to make you both happy. I’m peculiar- I’m moving out, today.” I had skipped over the topic of my peculiarity to save myself the hassle of them trying to explain yet again that all the stories about peculiardom were just the invention of my unstable mind. 

My parents were both much more focused on my last statement. “Moving out? You may think we’ve treated you badly but everything we do is for your best interest.” “What you assumed was in my best interests, but you know what? These last two years have been the most miserable and depressing years of my entire life.”

“Where would you even go? You don’t have a job to support yourself!” My mom practically wailed. I stood my ground against her distressed, watering eyes. It wouldn’t be the smartest idea to mention the new and improved Miss’s Peregrines Home for Peculiar Children Emma had sent a letter to me about not a month before. This house, no loop, And just thirty or forty miles from my parents house, deep in an overgrown woods. No. No mentioning the Peculiars at all. I may have turned into a legal adult overnight but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be forcibly put back into an asylum if my parents told the doctors they feared I would be putting myself in danger.

So I told them I had been offered a full scholarship to the University Florida for a degree in something like ’Psychology’. It would be something good. Something they could tell others about and not have to hide in fear of looking bad. But I didn’t want them poking around or getting involved so thinking quick, I thought about what would set them off, not want to see me and that was about the moment I threw out that I was dating a guy that lived near the university and would be moving in with him. This little knowledge wouldn’t have bothered a lot of people nowadays, but as I mentioned before, my parents were all about the reputation. Sure, looking at it from a certain point of view, it was mostly done in spite, really. I feel bad about the bluntness of the delivery.

She had cried… a lot, but after a minute or two I had realized I didn't feel guilty enough to feel bad for telling her a semi truthful fact about me. My dad was flustered and confused and didn’t know how to handle the situation so I walked around them. I had went up to my room and grabbed as much of my things as I thought I would be needing and left that day for my new life. The one I had been waiting so long to belong to,

The thing was- the things I had said, weren't the truth. I did get a scholarship of sorts. Miss Peregrine had been insistent that just because we had fought the wights and won at their main base didn’t mean there couldn’t be stragglers who had been hiding out in loops at the time of the battle that would no doubt go down in Peculiar history. “Same goes for Hollowgasts,” she had said. “There could be a nest of them still, who knows where in the vast expanse that is Peculiardom.” 

That had some truth, in theory, but I thought my sudden requirement to come and live in the new house my friends were all living now was less for the need of my steadily unuseful peculiarity in a nearly Hollowless world, but more because I had become one of them.

In the emails I had exchanged with both Emma and Millard (Millard was at least a tad bit better at using the computer than Emma, who preferred parchment) I hadn’t mentioned the clinics. It seemed trifle compared to the recovery efforts in the aftermath of the Devil’s Acre.

“Jacob, please, don’t go! Let’s just talk about this.” I turned to see my mother looking at me with desperation and I felt the sudden ache of guilt fill my lungs at the sight of my mom’s tearful face “We could talk this over with your doctors, they could help you figure out the best course of action in your situation.”

The twinge of guilt was gone once more and I sighed exasperatedly as I tossed my duffle bag over my shoulder of everything I deemed essential and pushed past my mom only to run into my dad’s chest. He was blocking the stairs to me. A deep, disapproving frown over his features. I had never seen my dad so serious and parental. 

“Dad, just let me go. Please?” 

“You’re welcome to go, but remember this, son. You walk out the door, don’t expect it to open with your key when you come crawling back.” I shrugged away the threat and pushed past him. The quicker I got this over with, the less of a chance there was for them to break me and to reduce me to an apologetic ball of tears. That was the old Jacob. I hadn’t seen him around in some time now, and I didn’t want to have a guest appearance at the moment so I walked out the front door, telling myself over and over not to look back at the house. 

There was an old rusty pale green truck waiting for me and a smile spread across my face at the sight of Hugh waiting to take me back to the Peculiar world. Where it felt like home more than my real home felt at the moment.

This house was different from the last in the fact that it wasn’t in a loop like the old one had been, but rather on a thin layer of reality right alongside the reality of the normals. It was more privacy than protection. It was a giant dome of invisibility with a large girth around the property. A normal wouldn’t see a thing, would even pass right through the sheild if they wanted and never see that they were actually walking right through a house. 

“Very convenient against salesman” Miss Peregrine had explained to to me with mirth behind her reading glasses.

So I lived with them in their mansion in the woods protected from discovery by magic and I could help them kill the Hollowgasts, if and or when they came around again.

As for the whole “I'm dating a man” therefore I won't give you grandchildren. I wasn’t. It didn't matter though, they wouldn't want to meet the person who “stole my son” or so my mom had wailed into the phone last time we had talked. I tried to keep in contact long distance as often as I could just because I didn’t want them to think I’d had another breakdown. I told them lie after lie about classes I was taking in college. Everything would be okay as long as I kept them far away from me physically by the occasional brief, and vague mention of what I was doing with my boyfriend that weekend. Never going into much detail, because for one, I wasn’t the most unimaginative person to begin with, let alone put on the spot, and secondly, it was embarrassing trying to think up sappy lovey dovey stuff.

And then the holidays had come.

Miss Peregrine had suggested I go home to my family for the holidays but I hadn't been invited over and I would rather have dinner with my friends than talking to my Mom and Dad about how my fictional life at UF where my fictional boyfriend was with me.

Then, two days after Thanksgiving my Dad had called. 

I reluctantly answered and tried for a pleasant “Hey, Dad.” That came out so obviously forced that Emma looked up from her book with concern. We were sitting in the grass outside of the mansion and enjoying the nice weather and companionship. Her with her book and I with pulling the grass from the ground.

“Your mother and I missed you on Thanksgiving. School's out for a reason on that day you know. It’s so you can come visit family.” My Dad said in one long, tired sigh. I sighed in return. “I didn’t know I was invited.”

I could hear the sound of the TV in the static of the phone. The overwhelming screech of the crowd, cheering on the football team, the monotone mumbles of sport announcers. College football, no doubt. 

My father’s stiffness seemed to go lax at my words and almost sad sounding “Jake, you don’t need an invitation to come see us.” My chest hurt at that and my hand clenched my cell phone tighter. He had called me Jake. Something neither of my parents had done since the first time they dropped me off at an asylum, like I was no longer their son, just some crazed lunatic that they were forced to take care of.

Clearing his throat, my father went on “Your mother and I don’t like the way things were when you left. She says you can bring your boyfriend?” The questioning tone was something he often used when he was testing the waters. Seeing where he could step without smashing my toes. When they had been taking me to a psychologist for my “Monster hallucinations” almost everything he said carried that invisible question.

Emma was pretending to be more interested in her book than my conversation but I could tell she was listening in. I didn't mind, we had become close friends in place of the relationship we had kinda sort of had two years ago. I felt like we were happier as friends than we had been together. Maybe it had been the suddenness of our relationship, or the bad timing of it, but now that things were back to normal (as normal as Peculiardom could get) we didn’t feel the need for the romantic attachment to our relationship.

“I mean, it would be weird for you guys-” I tried to explain away when the phone suddenly switched from my Dad to my Mom.

“Jake, just give us a chance. Bring your boyfriend over and I promise to keep an open mind. I don't want you thinking for one moment that we don't love you just because you’re-” she caught herself and started down a different route “It’s been a full month! Just because you’re an adult now doesn’t give you permission to push your family away like this.” her voice broke and suddenly my Dad's voice said rather annoyed (probably because my mom had forced him to call me during the football game)

“It's only one night. Come over on Christmas eve or we will drive to your university and force you to come home.” I bit at my lip, trying find an excuse as to why I shouldn’t go but my dad went on, as if knowing my next train of thought. “It will just be your mother and I this time so don’t worry about your uncles or aunt. Dinner will be at five and you better show up on time, young man.” With that last threat, he hung up and a horrible mixture of guilt, shame, and panic threatened to make me throw up the sandwich I had ate not too long before.

“What was that about?” Emma asked, closing her book and focusing on me as I slumped, feeling a little more than deflated. I confessed to what I had told my parents to get them off my back with embarrassment and what my parents wanted now. 

“Well, you could tell them the truth,” she started when I had finished explaining my conundrum, then a sly smile settled onto her face and she changed her mind “Or, you could always get one of the guys to pose as your boyfriend.”

My eyes widened in surprise at her suggestion and I felt heat spread across my neck and cheeks. I had thought Emma, out of all people would have objected to me being with another person. Not that I was narcissistic but I had thought she was still attracted to me, at least a little.

“You couldn't use Horace,” she went on, rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she worked it out in her head “Too young and he would not make a good impression. Hugh would be great if his bees didn't act up when he was anxious. Millard’s peculiarity is a little too obvious, Enoch-”

“I would rather take my chances bringing Millard the invisible than Enoch to see my mom and dad any day.” I cut her off abruptly and she gave me a look. “Enoch wouldn't even do it. No matter what. He’s too good. At least, that’s what he thinks. Millard would be the best, if he wasn’t invisible, he’s polite and confident and both your personalities work really well together, I think.”

“I could always wear guas and sunglasses like the invisible man.”

I had had a feeling Millard was spying on us. It was a long pause before Emma turned to the seemingly empty space on the grass between us where's the voice had come from and asked “What if Jacob covered you in clothes up to your neck and then put tan makeup on your face?”

“I've never tried makeup. Flour worked for Halloween that one time- make sure it's hypoallergenic just in case.”

I stared at them so thrown off balance I couldn't make sense of this. Just like that my friends were planning out this scheme that was something out of a rom-com movie.

Emma soon got up from under the willow tree, excitement drawing her face into a smile as she announced she would gather what she could to help us and took off back to the house.

“You're surprised I would help you out with the dumb situation you got yourself into.” It wasn't a question but I nodded slowly anyway. His hand clapped me on the shoulder as he chuckled lightly “I always like seeing my face every once in awhile. It helps that the three or four times I've smeared things on my face since I became completely invisible it showed that I was only getting better looking.” I could feel him shrugged his shoulders “Also, messing with people is one of my favorite things.” 

A smile broke out on my face “Yeah, I've noticed.”

As it was, Millard and I shared a room in the house and that night we went over his backstory, how we had met at University of Florida and were roommates. There was a stall in the conversation when Millard asked out of nowhere if I was really into men.

The indentation on his bed across the room from mine told me he was sitting in the middle of his bed much like I was at that moment. Were we really going to talk about my sexuality?

I tried to play it off easy. “Sometimes, I guess. What about you?”

“I never really thought about it. What do you mean by ‘sometimes’?”

“Well, I like girls… and um, sometimes I like guys? How else am I supposed to explain it?” Millard’s bed sunk deeper and the shape of his head settled into the pillow. “You don't have to explain it. I was just curious.”

“Yeah… okay.” I said awkwardly and finally resigned myself to settling into bed for the night. My back was to him but I could still feel his eyes on my back. Suddenly, A thought crossed my mind. Was Millard interested in me? No. This was Millard. He hadn't shown any interest in anything but playing pranks and learning just about everything in every subject. 

“G’night, Millard.”

“Good night, Jacob.”

The lights were switched off and I was left to my over-thinking thoughts.

The next day started early for me. Like most days now that I woke up at five, got dressed, and went up to the roof. From the small deck I looked and felt for Hollows nearby but it was always a bit harder in the mornings because the fog that settled on the floor of the woods clouded things. 

In the time I had been staying at Miss Peregrine’s home for the Peculiar I had only spotted one Hollowgast. In a fog similar to the one that was rolling in like this one and my ability had not been weakened by the inability to see it right away. The Feeling had took hold of me so hard I thought for a moment it was something I ate. Miss Peregrine’s magic bubble of time worked on humans who passed through the woods so that they would walk right through us and the house much like ghosts. Clueless to the pocket they had walked through. Hollowgasts on the other hand, could see us- could smell us but they could not get through the clear wall.

With its tentacles lapping at the wall, trying to punch a hole through it, I had come up to the clear barrier with a double barrel shotgun. I had killed it with two shots to the head and my shoulder had been killing me for a week after that from the blowback I hadn't expected.

But that was not this morning. The sun was still not showing yet but a blue had replaced the black of night and I watched the stars fade from the sky. When the sun crested the hills and shine through the trees I gave the land one last search for Hollowgasts before going back downstairs. 

Everyone was at breakfast when I came in. Miss Peregrine gave me a smile and passed the jams to Claire beside her. 

“All is good?”

I nodded and took a seat next to Millard and Emma. For once he was using his own chair and not making me jump up in surprise when I accidentally sat on him again. 

“I was just telling Millard I found a muted pink you can use for his lips to make it more natural. You’ll definitely need to go to the store and get some skin color.” Emma said quietly so not to let anyone else in on what we were talking about. 

But Miss Peregrine was too observant to miss it. She didn't ask though. She gave me a wary look before turning back to pull Claire’s hair out of the way so that her second mouth could get fed as well.

Later, after breakfast I slipped on my jacket and got ready to head down and out of the woods. We had the communal rusty green truck for getting into town. Mostly Hugh, Emma, and myself were the ones to use it. Millard and Bronwyn knew how to drive as well but rarely saw the use for it. 

Then Millard appeared in the doorway, dressed for once in brown slacks held up with matching suspenders over a white button down. 

For some stupid reason my heart picked up a notch and I looked to the side a bit stiffly. Was it because soon we’d be pretending to be a couple? Was that making me overreact to Millard? “I'm going to the store. What shade of skin do you want?” 

That made him laugh and hearing it eased my unsure behavior. “My skin was about the same shade as Bronwyn’s but I won’t mind if it’s different. Jacob, are you okay with me touching you?”

I froze. The hair on my arms standing on end even under the warmth of my jacket. “What do you mean? Like-”

“Like touch you. When we're at your parents’ house would it be too much of a show to touch you? Would we be one of those couples that don't show any affection in front of other people?”

Oh right. The tricking thing. I shrugged and rubbed at my neck. “I don't know, something in between I guess?” Millard moved towards me and slung his arm around my waist. “Is this too much?” I shook my head before I even could comprehend what I was allowing him to do. It was scary the way I was reacting to him. I stopped it right then, pushing him away gently I took a step back to look over what I could see of the guy in front of me.

“Uh, sorry… this is just a little weird. I mean, I've never pretended to be in a relationship with someone before and you're a really great friend for helping me-”

Millard’s snort of amusement broke through my rambling and I didn't really know how to react when I felt his hands once again on my waist and his warm laugh fanning out over my neck. “I can already tell I'm going to enjoy doing this. You're much too easily flustered, Jacob.”

Beside myself a grin broke out across my face and I pushed him away again with the shake of my head. “You said Bronwyn’s color, right?”

“Right.”

I pushed passed him but not without one unsure glance back. I had a feeling there something forming between us beyond a fake relationship… I had a feeling that I might actually like Millard. 

Christmas came faster than I had expected. In that time the days had progressively gotten stranger at the house of peculiars. I think things really started to get strange was when Emma had Millard and I practice how we would would act in front of my parents. It had been stiff and awkward on my part, reciting memorized lines.

Emma and shaken her had “You, Jacob Portman, are hopeless.” It was Millard’s fault, I concluded mentally. He was too good. He’d say things like “He was stunning and I just had to talk to him.” And then lace his fingers with mine and I would freeze up, face feeling distinctly warmer and I would mumble what I was supposed to say and untangle our fingers. Emma was getting frustrated with me.

“Millard, maybe you should tone down the lovey dovey stuff. I think you’re overwhelming him” She snickered and I let a groan. She was enjoying this. Probably loved making me embarrassed without making herself embarrassed in the process for once.

Millard threw up his hands as the sleeves of his button down indicated “I can’t help being a romantic at heart! It’s ingrained in my being just as deep as my peculiarity!” Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as she looked between us with narrowed eyes “Fine. Jacob, what’s wrong? Why are you getting so flustered?”

“Because you’re asking me to say things I wouldn’t say- and you’re watching like a hawk-“ “odds are, so will your parents. And if the lines aren’t fitting in your mouth, try ad libbing until they feel right.” I thought this over, took a calming breath and turned towards where Millard stood and cleared my throat as I shoved my hands into my pockets “Millard, I’m new to this, but I want this to work.” Millard didn’t respond at first, thinking I was just talking about the set up and not our ‘relationship’ but quickly caught up and took a step towards me, leaving barely an inch between our chests “It will work out, stop doubting yourself, it’s unhealthy.” 

“I can’t help it. You’re just so high above me, so smart, and I feel like I’m just watching you from down here.” He pressed the palm of his hand against my cheek with a chuckle “I do love hearing you talk me up so highly, but don’t sell yourself short, you are Jacob Portman, the hollow tamer!”

“Maybe don’t mention the hollows in front of your parents…” Emma muttered but we had entered another dimension where only the two of us existed and the words that had been lines now were turning into those with meaning. 

“Jacob Portman, you are astonishing and the most unique person I’ve ever met.” I rolled my eyes as a smile came to my lips. Those words brought such utter joy that for a second I couldn’t say anything and was just looking at the blank area where his head was located.

“That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever watched!” The suddenness of Bronwyn’s voice had the both of us jumping a little. Millard’s hand falling away from my face. Now, sitting by Emma in the grass in the shade of the back of the towering house was Bronwyn, Olive, and Horace. Emma shrugged but a smile was fluttering onto her face “very nice ‘acting’ there, boys. But you can’t just be saying sweet nothings to each other all night, you’ll need to actually speak to them.

Horace’s eyebrows were knit together as he asked “What is this for again? A performance of some kind?” Bronwyn smiled sweetly at Millard and me who had turned to away from each other, feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable “Millard is going to pretend he is Jacob’s sutor when they go to Jacob’s parents for Christmas.” She explained. Horace thought this over, slumping against the tree behind him and looking a little white in the face “That would explain the horrid nightmare I had a week ago.

“What does that mean?” I asked but he simply shook his head. That made me a little nervous. Just then Emma grabbed my attention back as she stood and dusted if his pants “don’t mind him. Everything will go great. You should definitely practice more ad libbing, though. 

And so we did. Sometimes in the the yard, but after Miss Peregrine had sent me a wary look when she caught Millard running his hands through my hair in a way that could be mistaken as sexual kiss if you couldn’t see his hands. After that it was strictly performed in our room with Emma or with just the two of us. Sometimes when it was just the two of us, I would have to call an end to the pretending because the acting would get too real.

Obviously, we were two teenage boys who, at the bare minimum, were attracted to one another.

The night before our big performance we were sitting on my bed facing each other. The conversation was a mix of reality and pretend. It was starting to get hard telling the two apart. At the moment I was laughing as I felt my hands over his face like a blind person might do. I could feel his smile, even as on of my fingers poked his eye. 

“How are we going to make it look like you don’t just have holes in your face?” “Bronwyn suggested pink food dye for my mouth and painting those mouth guards . Not as sure about my eyes. Maybe I will wear sunglasses and claim that my eyes are not so good. Emma is going to dye my hair blond tomorrow.” “Are you really okay with that? I feel a bit bad putting you through all this.” He shrugged off my worry and grabbed my hands on his face gently holding them as he spoke “I’ll just shave it off when this is over and it will regrow just as peculiar as before.”

I coughed awkwardly and pulled my hands from his. But before I could respond there was a shift on the bed and warmth rushed to my face at the unmistakable feeling of lips on mine. We didn’t move, just the press of lip on lip and we didn’t quite know where to go from there. I was just about to risk my pounding heart and grab for the back of his neck to pull him closer. When a few knocks came against the door. Spooking us apart.

Then came Miss Peregrine's voice “Lights out, boys.” The way she had said it hinted at a certain knowingness that was embarrassing. We pulled away from one another and I watched him as he stood from my bed, watching with stupid fascination as he stripped from his clothes and laid down on his own bed. Stupid in the fact that there was nothing to marvel or gawk at. Nothing visible. Millard stripped publicly on a daily bases and no one ever questioned it. And now as I sat there in my bed, heart still pounding, I felt dirty and guilty for imagining what Millard’s anatomy would look like if I could see him.

“Busy day tomorrow, better rest up. Something tells me it’s going to be very eventful.” He said it so breezily, like he hadn’t just kissed me. I wanted to confront him about it but I didn’t know how, and then there was tomorrow to think about. Dredging up whatever was starting to happen between us would only make tomorrow more difficult. So I turned out my lamp and muttered my goodnight.

I barely slept that night. Mind racing still as the sun came up. I heard Millard get up, stretch, and then head out of the room, presumably to go to the bathroom down the hall. I got up soon after and groggily got dressed. I stood there for several long minutes, sleeping with my eyes open and up on my feet but then Emma was knocking on my door with an excited smile and told me to hurry up.

The process of making Millard visible was definitely a process, we started with his clothes. It was winter after all so his long sleeve turtleneck wasn’t much of a stretch neither the gloves. The outfit would reduce a lot of the work to be done. Next was the hair dye. Emma and I with some latex gloves, Millard with his clothes once again off so as to not get dye on them, and some blind squirts of the bottle, blond hair started to appear. 

“I bet people with dark hair trying to dye their hair lighter must be envious of how well you hair takes to color.” I mused and he hummed, as if thinking “You’re quite right, Jacob. Maybe next time I decide to dye my hair I should go for some outrageous color such a purple or baby blue.” That got a laugh from Olive, watching from the tree she had floated up to.

Enoch, who had been shut in his basement laboratory of humaculus experiments for most of the last week or so, now emerged from cellar doors at the back of the house, took one look at what we were doing and narrowed his eyes “Do I even want to know what this is about?” Bronwyn, sitting on the tire swing of the tree Olive was in shook her head and gave an innocent sounding “No, probably not.”

That satisfied him and he disappeared around the front of the house carrying several jars filled with what looked like chicken stock with pickled organs in the center. 

After the dye was washed out and his hair was dry, Claire and Olive had taken to petting of soft sweep of blond hair with utter fascination. 

“Alright. Jacob go inside and start getting yourself ready.” Emma ordered and I gave her an uncomprehending look”but we haven’t done his face yet.” She nodded as a sly smile spread over her features.

“Yes, but all of us have already seen Millard’s face. Covered in mud and or flour- with the one occasion or it being covered in sheep poop... You go inside and get dressed and then you will get your big reveal when you come back out.” Millard finished tugging his turtleneck and pants back on “It’s not like my face is something to be marveled at.. its rather plain, really.” He protested and by the way his voice raised a bit I could tell that he was slightly embarrassed. It made me smile and I gave a nod “Can’t wait.” I finally said, and started back to the house.

When I came out in one of my nicer shirts my mom had gotten for me last Christmas I was met with a mini blockade of Hugh and Bronwyn who were grinning like crooks about to mug an easy target “Just a minute longer, Mr. Jacob.” She explained and despite myself, I tried to peek around them only to have Hugh lean with me, keeping Millard just out of view. So I waited, hearing Emma getting frustrated with Millard’s lips, saying that the bow in his top lip was annoying.

The mention of his lips brought up thoughts from the night before and my gut clenched. Yep. There was no denying that had happened, no denying that I had been about to deepen the kiss myself if not for the knock on the door. I liked Millard and I was pretty sure he was at least curious about me in that aspect. I guess I liked him for his personality, I mean, until Emma was done putting on the makeup, I had never seen him before… but it a weird way I guess I had because Millard’s invisibility was the true him. 

I guess I was into his invisibility? It was hard to explain.

“There! He’s ready!” Emma announced and I looked up from my thoughts with a jolt. Hugh and Bronwyn stepped aside and there he stood. He was wearing sunglasses but the rest of his face was on the pale side, his lips were curled in a Cupid’s bow and he had combed his hair to the left in an old timey businessman look, a look that somehow didn’t manage to date him. Then with a smile of painted Invisalign, he pulled the sunglasses off, his eyes closed at first and then he opened them to reveal full eye contacts, giving him hazel eyes.

“I managed to use the internet to track full eye contacts down a couple days ago.” Emma said proudly. Olive, still up in the tree gave a giggle “Millard cried when he put them on.”

“The solution they were in was like rubbing chili peppers in my eyes!” He quickly defended, then, to me he gave a sigh, “but these really do sting, let’s get this over with.” He linked arms with me and we started to the truck. I waved back to our friends who were cheering us on and wishing us good luck. 

“If it hurts that badly, you can take them out, you know.” I suggested, climbing into the driver’s seat. He shook his head and I couldn’t help but grin at being able to see the action for a change. “No, we want to make me seem like one of them as much as possible. Blind or almost blind and needing to wear sunglasses inside in the dead of winter will be suspicious and peculiar to them.”

I nodded as I started up the car “True. My mom might suspect that you’re trying to hide signs of drug use or that you have a hangover or something equally as ridiculous.” “Exactly!” And with that the truck cab fell quiet save for the rumble of the engine.

Should I bring it up? The kiss the night before? I knew that it had meant something more than just a pretend relationship but I didn’t think it was a good idea. At least, not before the battle of wills with my parents. It was hard not to ask and the question ate at me the whole way to my parents house.

It was Millard who finally brought it up, just as I was pulling into the driveway of my parents’ house. He put a gloved hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze “We will talk about it, I promise.” Warmth spread in my chest at the soft expression he gave him and I cleared my throat as I opened my door with a rasp of “Let’s deal with one thing at a time.” “Agreed.”

My mom answered the door. As per usual she was done up to the ninth degree even though it would just be the four of us tonight. When she saw me relief flooded her system as if she had thought it wouldn’t be me at the door. “Jake…”

She pulled me into a tight hug and I patted her back comforting. She truly cared about me, I knew, but it was in her own, stiff way. And just like that, the affectionate hug was over and she looked Millard over skeptical but maintaining a smile for hospitality sake “Who’s your friend, Jake?” 

Well, here it goes. I thought and gather the courage to do this. 

“Mom, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Millard Nullings.” 

She froze in place for a moment. Even knowing that it was coming she still reacted like she had been slapped across the face. Millard held out his gloved hand to my mother and she numbly took it. He gave it a good shake as he said “Nice to meet you, Ma’am. Jacob has told me a lot about you.” That last bit seemed to spark her intrigued and she gave my a narrowed look “Hopefully all good things.” Millard nodded as he let go of her hand “Of course.”

He was buttering her up. Playing into her vanity by complimenting her on the house and her dress. It worked insanely well, she even laughed when Millard compared the apartment he said we lived in a water closet compared to the house. I wondered if my mom was 100% sure what a water closet was but didn’t mention it.

“Where are my manners? Come in from the cold, you two.” As we entered the house, my father appeared in a Christmas sweater by the doorway to the living room. “Merry Christmas, Mr.Portman.” Millard greeted and my father’s eyebrows rouse in surprise and the dropped as he looked to me and mom “Merry Christmas- I wasn’t expecting a Brit.” 

“What?” I asked dumbly. Out of all things to focus on. Millard seemed confused as well, his brow knitting together. My mom gave dad a flabbergasted expression that turned to scolding “He is are guest!” She hissed between her teeth and my father took the hint and offered his hand to Millard, who looked just a bit offered.

“I’m sorry for starting off like that, it’s just that Jake here has a history with England- how long have you known him again?” My insides turned ninety degrees to left, fifteen to the right, like some sort of locker combination. My dad, was surprisingly perceptive and I cursed his recent obsession with true crime shows. He was becoming a regular sluth from that program. 

Millard looked to me and then back to my parents were both looking imploringly at him now. He laughed, a nervous laugh I had heard more than once and knew he was stalling as his mind worked up a solution “Oh, Jacob told me about that trip of his, if I recall, he went looney for a week, right?” 

Oh god. Why, Millard? Why? I thought over and over and smacked his arm “Millard!” He shrugged and looked at me with some panic as his brows drew together more but he was smiling. Never had to have a poker face before. It was so obvious that he was nervous “What? That’s what happened, right?”

“At least he’s admitting it now.” My dad muttered, then louder and with a smile my dad asked “You wouldn’t happen to be the reason he ran away that week, would you?” 

“I surely hope not! By then, me and my family were already in the states.” “So how did you to meet?” Mom asked warily. Millard seemed back in control of the situation and I let out a silent sigh of relief. Things had almost gone very, very wrong. 

“We met on a tour of the university and just hit it off from there.” I said and saw my mom open her mouth to ask another question but I cut her off “If you’re going to interrogate us, can we at least move to the living room?”

“Who’s interrogating? We just want to know more about your life now that you’ve cut us out of it.” My mom returned with a pinch of bitterness “Maryann…” my dad muttered and my mom gave a sigh then smiled her best ‘there are guests’ smile and gestures broadly to the archway my father was blocking “The living room is this way.”

My parents went in first and Millard and I trailed in slowly, he had one of his hands on my lower back as he leaned in and whispered “Bird, was that close.” “Nice save though, kept us both from having our heads mounted above the fireplace” “would your mother really go to those lengths?” He asked and clenched his hand in the fabric of my shirt, that drew a small laugh from me “No, I was joking.” “Please joke in a manner that is amusing for both of us.”

“What’re you boys whispering about? Come in here and sit down.” My mom patted the seat next to her and I took it, Millard took the chair to the side of mine and let out a whistle when his eyes landed on the massive Christmas tree from roof to ceiling.

“That’s quite a tree. Cut it yourself, Mr. Portman?” That made dad bust up laughing “Of course not! If this thing was real, I’d have thrown my back out cutting it down.” Millard seemed disappointed by that answer. I could almost hear in inside his head saying something like ‘Back in my day, you either went out and cut the tree yourself, or you didn’t have a try at all’

My mom grabbed my arm and I looked over to her and she whispered “Your friend is wearing makeup.” Was it that obvious? To me, it looked like Emma had done a really good job, but somehow my mom could tell… not to sound mean but, it takes a cakeface to know a cakeface. There had to be at least three layers of cover up on both of their faces. My mom thought she was looking old but the only difference over the years had been the crows feet that had started to appear.

“I know.” I whispered back and once again a she looked at me as if she had been slapped in the face. She whispered to me again, more fiercely than before “Jacob Milligan Portman, if he’s a drag queen-“ I had to laugh at that. It was just so ludicrous and stupid.

My dad and Millard had stopped their discussion about birds to look at me. I pointed to Millard, still laughing and choked out “My mom thinks you’re a drag queen!” For a moment, I wondered if Millard knew the term but it seemed he did as he shook his head with a laugh of his own, though more subdued.

When I looked back at my mom, she was red in the face for being called out but also seemed just the tad bit guilty.

“It’s the make up, isn’t it? My sister is not the best, but I have terrible acid burns on my face from when I was a reckless child and I didn’t want to look abnormal or make either of you uncomfortable.”

When he really put his mind to it, Millard could spin a tale so flawless it seemed to settle in as truth. Scarily so.

“I am so sorry.” My mother conceded and genuinely looked as though she meant it. But I had a feeling later she would be asking about those apparent burns of his and how weird it made him look. 

After some random, light hearted questions to break up the tension of the room, we went to the table to eat the catered dinner, my mom never being one of the greatest chefs. 

And then, because peace in this situation was bound to fall apart at some point, my mom looked to Millard and did a double take. I looked over to see what she was looking at, and saw that one of his contacts had shifted a little and his eyes looked to be going in two different directions, I elbowed Millard, who looked over at me questioning and I pointed to his eye, he turned away from the table and adjusted the contact before looking back. 

Seeing my mom staring Millard looked away “Sorry, they do that sometimes.” Now my mom was looking at me because my bird this was going terribly. Maybe it would have been a safer bet to Enoch. Sure he would have probably said some nasty, hateful things and my parents would bar him from ever coming near the house again, but at least he wouldn’t be falling apart in front of them.

“You mentioned you came to the states with your family. Tell us about them, what do your parents do, how many siblings.” My dad offered as a conversation starter and Millard readily accepted the challenge “No father in the picture and my mother is a teacher of sorts, as for my siblings, I have three brothers and five sisters…” then his smile dropped and he corrected himself “Four sisters… one past two years ago, sadly.”

“That’s a quite big family, how on earth does your mother support you all?” That had Millard stumped for a second so I answered in his place “Well, like Millard, a few of his siblings have already moved out.” “Yeah, Jacob and I are roommates at Florida University.”

“What are you studying?” My dad asked and Millard really didn’t have to lie for this one “I’m studying cartography and language.” 

It seemed that things were okay again, and my stress eased a fraction. I hadn’t realized until now that I had been clenching my stomach, waiting for the punch of insults to hit me and as I let that knot start to unwind, Millard sat his hand on top of mine right on the table for my parents to see. 

“Jacob here, is amazing at psychology, you should see how quick he finishes his homework. It’s scary.” Millard went on and  
My dad laughed “Where was that drive in high school, mr. GED.” My looked to my dad and shrugged “That stuff was boring.”

Abruptly, my mother cut into the conversation “So Jacob told you all about his trip to England, did he?” Before anyone is could fully process what she was bring up and hour and a half after it had already been established she went on “did he tell you about the clinics? The medications he’s supposed to be on but hasn’t been for more than a month?”

Millard looked at me with confusion “what clinics?” I hadn’t wanted to let any of the peculiars know what had happened. It was superficial compared to their efforts to rebuild after the war. My dad didn’t like to mention those places, liked to pretend the weeks I was gone were for some sort of summer camp so he wouldn’t feel guilty. My mom only brought them up when distributing medication and that fact that she was mentioning them to someone outside the family was seemingly unheard of.

“Jacob is not mentally stable, he’s been in and out of live in clinics ever since his little England escapade.” Millard didn’t say anything to this simply looked at at me. Clearly worried, I looked away and shrugged. 

“I’m sorry to say this to you but I don’t think it’s in his best interest to be seeing anyone in his current state. Who knows what he told you was a delusion or a memory.”

“I’m fine.” I said sternly and my mom looked shocked by the words “No you most certainly are not! If you were, you wouldn’t be dating him!” Here she pointed directly at Millard and now I was standing because this was getting annoying “Excuse me? What the hell are you implying?” Millard and my father were both standing now, my dad trying to play the mediator between us but Millard wasn’t trying to pull me back, instead he through his hat into the ring.

“You’re the crazy one! Who would lock their son in the looney bin for being himself?” He spat and my mom glared “that’s not him being himself, that’s the result of people like you and his grandfather filling his head with stories!”

“Don’t talk about Abe like that!” Millard spat back and I looked over my mother’s huffing red face and I asked, legitimately “What’s wrong with you!?”

“It’s not what’s wrong with me, it about what’s wrong with you, Jake! Why can’t you just be normal and be with someone who is normal!?”

“I’ll show you normal!” Millard said and went to rub off his makeup but I grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him. “Don’t give her the satisfaction.” I turned to look at my dad, who had taken to hiding his face in his hand, waiting for the fight to simmer out “We’re leaving. Really great to see you guys again. I missed these quality conversations of ours.”

My dad looked up just as Millard and I turned away from the table and called out “Jake, I’m sure your mother upset you and you have every right to be upset, but please, son. Let’s not leave this on another sour note!”

“He’s right you know.” Millard remarked and I looked at him incredulously. He was grinning but before I could ask him what he was talking about, he wrapped one of his arms around me and the other holding my head as he dipped me and planted a kiss passionately on my lips. When he righted me again he plucked one of his contacts from his eye and threw it onto the table which ended with it landing directly into the mashed potatoes. 

My mom screeched in new found terror as now there was a black hole where Millard’s right eye use to be. We took our bows as Millard announced “And that concludes this evening's performance, stay peculiar and have a good night!”  
Then we walked from the room arm in arm, just as calmly as we had entered it.

“We’ll probably have to tell Miss Peregrine what happened and hope that she can erase the damage we caused tonight.” Millard said after a good five minutes of the silent drive back towards the house. I snorted with bemused laughter “What? I thought we had a good night. I especially liked when you called my mom crazy and threw your contact into the mash potatoes.” He gave a chuckle “That was pretty brilliant, wasn’t it?” 

We were quiet for a long time and then he spoke up, tentatively “How did you like the grand finale?”

Right. The kiss. The second we had shared. This second one had left me a bit winded. It had been a hungry, passionate moment, on that had my heart picking up at the very mention of it.

“It was good.” “Good? Really? That it? Just good?” I rolled my eyes and took a shaky breath in “Maybe even great.” 

He hmm’ed in thought then directed me to pull over. I did as he said, asking as I did way he wanted me to “You just have to trust me.”

The moment I had it in park, the answer became rather obvious as lips were on mine in seconds. I let out a gasp but then switched gears and pushed back. The kiss was hot and rough in a way I had never experienced before. His hands found my hair and he tugged while my hands almost instinctively went to his face. Wiping at the layers of makeup on his face, he pulled back, breathing heavily, patches of his skin once again invisible. He touched his face and then gave me a quizzical look “I know my face is plain as a board but do you really not like it that much?

I shook my head, smiling “No, it’s a good face, I just don’t like the makeup. It’s covering you up.” Millard was slow taking this in “But you can’t see me without it…” “Yes I can. I can see you as you, not trying to look normal for the sake of my parents.” That brought a grin to what remained visible of his face.

“Quit a cheesy romantic, aren’t you?” I answered him with another kiss. Pretty soon I was on top of him. Had him laid out on the plush bench of the truck as we yanked shirts off and let hands run wild. I closed my eyes and absorbed the feel of Millard’s body. Nearly hairless chest heaving up and down, exposing the feel of his ribs as our lips smacked together over and over in a frenzy of kisses.

I jolted a little at sudden hand on my ass but didn’t push it away. We were in new territory for both of us but it could only take one moment to mess it all up. 

Desperate for friction to the heat settling into the front of my pants I rubbed downward onto Millard who gasped “Wow! Okay, that was amazing, please do that again.” I did and it earned me a moan. Then he sat up, pressed a kiss to my lip, my cheek, my neck while he yanked at my belt buckle. Against my neck he muttered irritatedly “The is yet another moment when clothing has proven to be a nuisance.” With slightly shaky hands I helped him with his own pants and with only a moderate amount of a struggle, we were finally bare.

Millard had an advantage here, though he was no doubt looking me over while I had to reach of and feel to see. 

“You’re quite handsome like this, in fact, I vote that you should, like me, walk around bare.” I felt my cheeks heat up at his words “I’m not so sure the other would appreciate it, like you would.” “You make a good point, plus, I don’t feel particularly keen like sharing at the moment.” 

We lapsed into a mess of kisses, my body flush over his. We hissed at the sudden spike in sensation as our members pushed against one another. 

It felt like we were there on the side of the road for hours. Looking back, we probably were. The window had fogged over with heat and the air around us was muggy with moisture.

Millard was on top of me now and my head was spinning. We could have stopped a while ago, but now we had reached a level of no return. I shuddered at the feeling of his fingers leaving my body, felt myself clench around something the wasn’t there. 

“Stunning.” He murmured reverently for at least the fifth time. I heard the friction of skin of skin and knew that he was touching himself, getting off to the image of me vulnerably laid out before him. I couldn’t take it.

Grouping blindly, I found his member and the hand around it. I pushed the hand away took his shaft into my hand.

“Dear Birds! Jacob, if you don’t stop now…” he let out a groan and I got the hint. I let go of him and he took in several deep, shaky breaths.

I looked up at the steering wheel of the truck and then felt one of his fingers probing my well stretched entrance. I was still ready but he asked anyway “Are you ready, Jacob?” I gave a stiff nod and offered him a breathy smile “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Then there was the feeling of his member, pressing up against the the split of my ass. His hand guided the head to my entrance and I reached up and found he other hand, firmly gripping my hip and took hold of it. Our fingers tangled together just as he pushed inside.

It was slow going, and the stretch hurt but it meant something extremely important. We were, after all, not just having sex or banging… I felt that we were making love. It was old fashion but my partner was old fashion so it fit well, really.

We talked in hushed, breathless voices as we waited for my insides to relax, it was about nothing, everything. And then I gave him the signal to try moving and he slowly began pushing forward… deathly slow.

“You can go a little faster.” I mentioned, he pushed forward a little and then there a sudden slide forward, as the spit used to open me up finally worked. Maybe too well, too late. He slid the rest of the way in and I let out a scream. Not entirely sure if it was more in surprise, pleasure, or pain as all three had filled my senses. He’d managed to ram right into my prostate. My whole body ached with pleasure and pain. I took to covering my eyes with my hand that wasn’t clutching Millard’s. 

He apologized profusely and even started to pull back out but I shook my head “I’m alright. You can try to move now, slowly.” He apologized one last time and pressed a kiss to my lips as he slowly pulled out and in. They were small and short at first, but then he started to build confidence and pulled out further, to push back in faster.

Soon he had found a good rhythm and we groan and hugged and moaned at the sensations of each other. His invisible hands were on me, rubbing, groping, caressing and I touched him too. 

Picking up the pace as the end grew nearer, there was the incessant squeaking as the frame of the truck rattled back and forth with the rhythm our thrusts. My hand that wasn’t in his moved to my own member and began to pump it viciously only to be batted away in the same fashion I had done to him not long before. 

There was no hiding the noises that were spilling out of me now and my voice scratched the next day from the final yell of climax that had shot through me. Millard came inside me with a cry and then he collapsed on top of me. 

We were breathing hard. I felt gross and dirty but too tired at the moment to do anything about it. Luckily, Millard gave up resting and sat up, saying the dirty feeling was bothering him so he dug around in the glove box and found some tissue to clean the both of us up. If only a little.

When we returned to Miss Peregrine’s house, it was two in the morning. We thought we would be able to just sneak on up to our room and sleep but as unexpected as it was expected, Miss P was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, puffing at her pipe.

We both felt guilty and embarrassed at having been caught returning so late but she couldn’t have know what we had been doing, right?

“Horace told me he had a nightmare that the dinner with your parents would go awful.” “It did.” I said, and cursed myself for the obviousness of my lost voice. She nodded and took another huff from her pipe, looking us over with calculative eyes “He also mentioned that in his dream Millard impaled you.” Beside me, Millard choked and I stiffened, trying to not show that my back was giving me discomfort.

She shook her head and stood. “Now. There will be no repeat of tonight’s actions. Not in the truck, and absolutely not in the house. Do you both understand?” A nodded and Millard gave a tentative ‘yes’. “I will deal with your parents in the morning. Now off to bed.” As we were dismissed from her side and into the house, our hands bumped and we locked fingers and made our way up stairs

Millard hummed as he plopped down in his bed and I sat on the edge of mine. We were quiet for a long moment, his soft hums reminding me of me recent lack of sleep and I started to drift off while sitting up. That was until Millard pointed out.

“She didn’t say the wood were off limit. Care for a stroll through the woods with me tomorrow, Jacob?”

I threw my pillow at him.

**Author's Note:**

> So? How was it? I’d love to here your feedback! In the future I want to do a EmmaxJacob/MillardxJacob little short story (shorter than this one) but we shall see how that goes~


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